


Analogy Of Love

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, The Phantom of the Opera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2283249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and the Master, cuddling, watching The Phantom Of The Opera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Analogy Of Love

They were curled up together on a large, comfy sofa, watching _The Phantom Of The Opera_. The Doctor smiled as the screen faded from the sight of the Phantom's rose lying on Christine Daae's tombstone to the credits, leaned over, and hit **STOP** on the remote. Then he sighed, lay back in the Master's arms, who automatically wrapped his arms around the other man's  chest, and closed his eyes.

“You were clearly moved by this particular piece of cinema,” the Master commented.

“Of course,” said the Doctor, without opening his eyes. “Wonderful cinematography, gorgeous score. How could I not?”

“I believe there's more to it than artistry, my dear,” said the Master, running a hand through the Doctor's hair. “Something like personal relation, perhaps?”

“Meaning?”

“It's perfectly obvious. You see me as the Phantom,” the Master replied.

“Do I?” said the Doctor, opening his eyes to look up at the other Time Lord. “How so? Tell me.”

The Master let out a deep chuckle. “Elusive, mentally disturbed, obsessive, passionate, wears all black - you can't tell me you didn't make the correlation. Not even you could be that  naive.” He thought for a moment. “Then again, it is you.”

“So I suppose I'm Christine, then,” said the Doctor, smiling as he turned over on his stomach, he and the Master now lying chest to chest, faces right in front of each other.

“Well...” The Master leered triumphantly as he combed his fingers through the Doctor's hair again. “There is something marvelously _debauched_ about you. A certain...purity.”

“You, my good man, have a wicked mind,” the Doctor gently teased, pressing a brief kiss to the Master's lips. “And I'm sad to report that this regeneration is fairly tone deaf.”

“Oh, how shall I go on,” said the Master dryly, rolling his eyes as he kissed the Doctor back. “Besides...” His voice turned tender. “She was beautiful, body, mind, and soul. The Phantom saw that, fell victim to it, and it drove him to desperation. He was so enraptured by her splendor, it blinded him to all else.” He stroked the Doctor's cheek. “He was helpless. Love's puppet. He never had a chance.”

The Doctor closed his eyes. He inhaled, exhaled, then leaned in and properly kissed the Master, long and deep. “I love you,” he whispered, against his lips.

“Thank Rassilon for that.”


End file.
